


Fear and Failure

by JC_Owell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hell, Romance, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 08:43:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JC_Owell/pseuds/JC_Owell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sinning becomes an oil slick in the whiteness and taints it. It's a one way ticket into Hell, no return."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fear and Failure

Fear rippled down Jas's spine in a way that she hadn't felt for many years. It prickled from the bottom of her back right up to the top with tendrils of terror spreading out and grappling whatever they could find. It was the kind of primal dread you would feel when you're falling from a high point with no warning, or about to suffer the imminent loss of something you can't live without. 

The unopened bottle of beer, still ice cold from the freezer, slipped out of Jas's hand in one fluid movement. Hands shaking violently, she tried to catch it mid-air, as it hurtled towards the floor of Bobby's house. Fingertips grazed the bottle neck for a brief second, before it smashed onto the ground accompained with the loud sound of glass shattering. 

The fluid talk from the kitchen, suddenly ceased, silence replacing the voices with an easy transition. Jas cringed away from the loud noise, as she dropped to her knees, near to where the bottle had fragmented. With restless hands, she dived for the broken shards, ignoring the sharp nicks she received from the jagged glass. The creak of a floorboard made Jas's head snap up, an automatic reaction that she'd learnt to do when an unexpected noise reached her hearing. 

Dean Winchester was stood in the doorway, dark eyes darting around the room with a suspicion for the shadows. His knuckles were white with tension, the grip on his knife never loosening once, even when demons failed to jump from their hiding spot and slit his throat. Sam was partially behind him, posture and actions the complete same to his brothers'. A flash of a tan trenchcoat whispered behind Sam, disapearing as soon as it had appeared. 

Dean's heated gaze finally landed on Jas, scanning her face briefly, then the floor, searching for answers. Met with the sight of a smashed bottle and spilling liquid, he breathed a quick sigh of relief as he tucked his knife away, turning his head to Sam with a quick nod. Ony then did both brothers unwind , releasing their grips on weapons with an audible crack of knuckles. 

Closing her fists tightly, Jas tried to remain in control of the tremors that shook her hands. Forgetting about the glass that remained in her palm, she pressed harder, gasping at the biting sensation that stabbed at her hands. Dean's eyes dropped to Jas's lap, where her shaking hands lay. 

"You okay, Jas?" Dean asked with a furrow between his eyebrows that set his eyes off in such a way that made them look half-heartedly concerned. Nodding her head with confidence, she stood on shaking knees, swaying to the side slightly before straightening up. Clearing her throat, Jas let a small, false smile stretch on her lips before letting it drop. 

"Fine. Bad grip that's all. You know me." Jas answered, the words rehearsed, throaty and tainted with a edge of panic that went unnoticed by the Winchester brothers. 

"Show me your hands." Dean demanded flatly, eyeing the warm blood that dripped onto the floor from Jas's hands. It trickled down each finger, the trails of crimson liquid, a juxadaposition to the porcelian tone of her skin. 

"Quit your worrying, Deano." Jas rolled her eyes, shoving past him with a purposeful force that radiated tension and amnosity. Sam side stepped out of her way, keeping his gaze on Jas as she went past him with leaking palms that dripped onto the floor. He sensed his brother, Dean, curse in frustration, shoulders tense with annoyance and concern for Jas. 

Heading for the kitchen, Jas bit her lip, forcing the tears that had settled in her eyes away. She briefly loosened her grip on the glass shards, testing the size of her cuts before quickly fisting her palms together again. Blood welled thickly in her hands, enough to fill the air with the cloying smell of iron and injury. 

"There's a lot of blood, Jas, maybe you should let Dean take a loo-" Sam halted hissentence, as Jas glowered at him underneath her long eyelashes. The blue of eyes were diamond hard, glinting in the light of Bobby's kitchen. 

"It's just glass. I don't see the big deal." She shrugged, irritation colouring her tone. Sam winced, knowing how bad the arguements got between her and Dean on the subject of her injury. Turning her back on both brothers, she opened her hands over the sink, listening as the glass clattered in the metal basin. A flood of blood washed out of her palms, lining the sink with a thick layer of crimson. Definetley more blood than Jas had originally thought. 

"Doesn't matter? So, you just bleeding out on Bobby's floor is fine, is it? Don't say shit like that, Jas. You know how I get." Dean growled, stepping towards Jas with tightly coiled muscles that leaked tension and the need for her to be alright. 

Jas carried on staring at the blood in the sink with an odd fascination for the colour and a fear that she actually liked the look of her own blood spilt everywhere. Tilting her head away from the sink, Jas tried to control the wave of nausea that had washed over her. Bile bubbled in her throat and she swallowed roughly, trying to rid herself of the feeling. 

"Now, that is a beautiful shade of blood, Jas. You should be proud of your masterpiece." 

Every muscle locked down on Jas's body, fear twisting and wrenching at her organs in a way that made her feel like she was being pulled apart. Slowly turning her head to the side, she stared in horror at Dean and Sam, praying that they had heard the voice as well and it wasn't just her. 

They weren't there. 

"Dean?" No answer. 

"Sam?" Silence. 

Panic began to rise in Jas's throat, catching her airways on the way up, making it hard for her to breathe. Knees shaking, she pushed herself away from the sink, taking a few shaky steps before clinging onto the kitchen table. 

"Well, I applaud your attempts. Very entertaining if I do say so myself." 

Jas couldn't breathe. She found it physically impossible to allow the oxygen to pass through her lips and into her lungs. Her head span and more blood spilled from her palms. The voice was eerily familiar, as it was terrifying. Terror seized Jas in a way that she had never felt before. It grasped her limbs in a iron hold, forcing her to stay where she was and face the person that had just spoken. 

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?" Jas's voice shook, even when she tried to level her tone out to make her seem indifferent. 

"Yes. For now. In fact, you just passed out from the fear you felt before. My doing of course." The voice was smooth, soft, but edged with something hard that she couldn't place. 

"What do you want, Lucifer?" Jas swayed on her feet, as she released her hold on the table, trying to put as much distance between the fallen angel and herself as possible. She didn't even have time to blink before she was pinned against the wall, hand closing tightly around her throat. Lucifer's eyes were dark and deadly, a small frown gracing his lips, as he stared deep down into hers. She swallowed. As if he is looking into her soul.

"That's precisely what I'm doing." 

Jas didn't respond. 

"Yours is very pure." He mused, reaching out and placing a calloused finger onto Jas's breast bone. A quick look of disgust passed over his face, before he wiped himself clean of emotion and pulled his finger away. 

"It's like a sheet of white silk, rippling constantly with light and promise. It echoes everything you do in a spectrum of colours and it is so bright. Blinding to demons and angels like me." Lucifer loosened his grip on Jas's throat, as he splayed one hand across his chest, tapping one finger on his vessel's sternum. 

"It's the same with an angel's grace. Sinning becomes an oil slick in the whiteness and taints it. It's a one way ticket into Hell, no return." 

Jas twisted in Lucifer's grip, the plastered wall cool beneath her back. He tutted, tilting his head to the side as he ran his gaze along her entire body in a way that made her shiver in disgust. His smile was twisted, enhancing the peeling scars of the vessel's skin. 

Lifting his hand, he trailed a long finger down Jas's chest, following the underneath of her breasts in a slow path. She struggled again, fear crushing down on her chest like a paperweight of panic. Lucifer sighed, shaking his head with an emotion that was all too familiar to her. Disapointment. 

"You're nothing like the Winchesters, Jas. Has anyone ever told you that? You reek of fear and failure, this sickening cocktail of self-pity and sympathy for yourself. Nothing like Sam or Dean. Which reminds me, how is it going with the man from Hell? Love what you expected?" Jas stiffened against the wall, averting her gaze immediately from Lucifer's probing eyes. 

"So, it is true? Dean truly has lowered his standards from the girls he picked up every weekend." Lucifer whistled lowly, dropping his hand from Jas's neck, allowing her to breathe again. 

"Go to Hell!" Jas spat, cobalt eyes blazing with fury, keeping her back pressed firmly on the wall. Lucifer stilled, anger flashing briefly across his features before composing himself. His stubbled jaw tensed, as he gritted his teeth. 

"I've spent far too much of my life in the Pit, Jasmine and I don't ever intend to return. Alistair is in charge whilst I'm walking this so called Paradise." Jas's throat went dry, words clogging her mouth, sticking in a clump of mashed up letters. 

"Sam killed Alistair." 

"Yes, he did. But, guess who brought him back?" Lucifer spoke slowly as if explaining something to a child, which Jas virtually was to the fallen angel. She paled considerably, leaning back into the wall for support. 

"So, once those sigils come off your ribs, I'm coming to find you." 

"And when I do, I'll send Alistair to drag to you to Hell kicking and screaming by your hair. Right infront of my vessel and Dean. How could Sam not say no after that? They'll be selling their souls to the closest demons, which means empty bodies. More room for Michael and me, don't you think?" Jas didn't reply. There was nothing to say. 

Closing his eyes, Lucifer placed a hand on his chest, stoic expression imprinted on his face. A few seconds past before a furrow appeared inbetween his eyebrows, a look of concentration passing over his features. 

A high pitched sound began to resonate around the room, getting louder and more painful as it reverberated off the walls. Covering her ears with a cry, Jas dropped to the floor, as the windows of the house began to explode, glass fragments flying everywhere like dangerous confetti. Blood trickled out of her ears, a steady stream that evidenced burst eardrums. 

Darkness descended on the room, an onyx glow that embedded everything in an eerie light. Shutting her eyes from the absence of light, Jas forced herself to try and block out the sound that had forced her onto her knees. 

Something white hot buried itself into Jas's chest, welding and burning itself onto her soul, like a soldering iron had been taken to her body. Her scream was lost amongst the ringing sound and as she opened her eyes to see the damage to her chest, she heard Lucifer's smooth voice beside her. 

"Think of this as my parting gift to you. The tainted grace of an angel seared onto your soul. A one way ticket to Hell. I'll be seeing you shortly." 

Jas woke screaming.


End file.
